Pour Judgment

by ORGERON, HEATHER M

  “You were saying?” Korie snickers, applying pressure to my chest to move us further into the foyer and out of their space.

  “Holy mother...” Nicholas brings a fist to his mouth, biting the knuckle of his first finger.

  I can’t hold back my laughter. “Whoa, Nick…Never knew you to be a religious man.”

  “Yeah, okay…pretty sure if I were, the thoughts running through my head right now would land me a one-way ticket to hell.”

  “I don’t understand why you lovebirds don’t make it official already.” Korie turns to watch her girl’s grand entrance, slipping an arm around my waist. “Everyone within a mile radius can feel the lust emanating from you two.”

  Nicholas glares at his cousin over his date’s shoulder. “Nothin’ wrong with two people having a little fun.”

  Raven’s spine visibly stiffens, and I take that as my cue to lead Korie to the living room for our photo op.

  “What’s his damn deal, anyway?” I’ve been looking forward to this night for weeks now and hate that she’s letting their situation sully her mood.

  “He’s just not ready to settle down. Nick’s been completely open with her. If Raven doesn’t have an issue with it, why should you?”

  She slows her gate, gawking up at me. “For the same reason I should have followed my gut and stayed far away from you.” She swallows hard. “He’s going to hurt her, Rhett.”

  Ouch. “What’s it gonna take?”

  “For what?” She turns to face me when she realizes I’ve stopped moving, linking her hands around my neck. Her sparkling green eyes are almost level with mine as she rocks back on her heels, giving me her full attention.

  A lump forms in my throat, and I attempt to swallow it down. “For you to finally realize how fucking crazy I am about you?”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that you are…” The pads of her thumbs rub back and forth on the nape of my neck, sending a jolt of desire rushing through me. “For now.” With that her hold loosens and her hands trail lightly over my shoulders, finally resting on my chest.

  “This rock says forever.” Her stance wavers as I twist the diamond around the ring finger of her left hand, now clutched in mine.

  “You and I both know this is nothing but a lie.”

  I lace my fingers with hers, tugging to get her moving again. “I prefer to think of it as a practice round.” That earns me a genuine smile.

  “You’re relentless, Rhett Taylor.”

  “Only when I know what I want.”

  When our limo arrives at the arena, the girls grow uncharacteristically silent, and Korie’s palm starts to sweat in mine. Me being the front man of the band, we’re out first, and I find myself feeling anxious on her behalf. It’ll be our first red-carpet event together, and I hope the attention doesn’t discourage her from ever wanting to accompany me again.

  As soon as Reginald pulls the door open, the blinding flashes of lights start, following us all the way down the never-ending carpet. I try to hurry by without being noticed, but despite my best efforts, we’re stopped by none other than Joan Brooks, the fashion police.

  The notoriously nervy woman shoves a mic in my face. “Mr. Taylor, you’re looking quite dashing tonight. Who are you wearing?”

  “Thanks, Joan. You look lovely as well. The suit is courtesy of Prada.”

  Korie’s fingers tighten around mine when Joan moves on to her. “And aren’t you a sight…it’s Korie, right?”

  She clears her throat. “Yes. Korie Potter.”

  “That’s right…the skater girl. Well, don’t you clean up nice? Who had the honor of dressing you tonight, love?”

  I can’t help the laughter that bursts out of my chest when my oblivious date answers simply, “Myself.”

  The reporter’s head jerks back with surprise.

  “Well,” Korie adds, “that’s not entirely true. A lovely stylist by the name of Simon is responsible for my hair and makeup. He was fantastic.” She smiles at the camera. “Thanks so much for everything, Simon!”

  Normally ready and waiting to bust everyone’s chops, Joan appears flustered and completely at a loss for how to respond. She rolls her shoulders, straitening her spine. “Would you mind telling us about your shoes?”

  “They’re a death trap,” she whispers. “Most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever had the displeasure of wearing.”

  Everyone within earshot erupts into hysterics, including the wicked witch herself. “Thank you, darling.” She waves us off. “Enjoy your evening.”

  “Was it something I said?”

  “And now the nominees for male vocalist of the year,” Tinley Tucker announces, motioning to the screen behind her, where the names are revealed, followed by a short clip of each of our most popular songs in the year 2019.

  I knew well in advance I was nominated in this category, but it doesn’t make the nerves churning in the pit of my stomach any less. My heart leaps into my throat when the video montage comes to an end and Tinley slowly unfolds the sealed envelope in her hand. A huge grin splits her face. “Congratulations to our male vocalist of the year, Mr. Rhett Taylor!”

  Korie squeals, flying to her feet and throwing her arms around my neck. While holding her close and breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume, I feel the shoulder and back slaps from the band. Their congratulations all meld together, getting lost in the erratic beating of my heart. The applause is deafening as I place a brief kiss to my girl’s lips and make my way up to the podium, completely shell-shocked, and not at all prepared.

  “Wow,” I say, taking the award from Tinley and positioning myself behind the mic. “This is truly an honor. I’m a fly by the seat of my pants kind of guy and honestly didn’t expect to win, so please bear with me while I try to gather my thoughts.” My eyes slowly scan the crowd, stopping on my crew. “First of all, I want to thank my fans for making this dream of mine possible. My bandmates, Nick, Lyle, and Aiden…without y’all I am nothing. Thank you to Anika, my manager and childhood friend, for handling this bunch of misfit guys with a heavy hand and loads of grace. You keep us all in line and are more vital than you could ever know.”

  Her big eyes well with tears. She kisses her first two fingers, extending them in the air toward me, mouthing the words, I love you.

  “Love you too, Annie. Thanks to my pops, and my sister, Judy, who couldn’t be here tonight. Your love and support keep me going. My little niece, Princess Autumn. Uncle Rhett loves you to the moon and stars, baby girl.” My eyes finally land on my date, and my chest swells to nearly bursting because somehow this award feels more than the rest, just for having this woman by my side. “I promise I’m almost done. There’s one more person I need to thank. Korie Potter, thank you for keeping me humble. For refusing to allow me to get a big head. For reminding me daily that I am simply a man who’s been blessed immensely in both my professional and now my personal life. You ground me. You center me. You make me a better man.”

  Chapter 38

  Korie

  Rhett doesn’t return after his speech, which left me feeling some kind of way. The rest of the guys have all disappeared as well, joining him in the back to prepare for their upcoming performance.

  Raven holds my trembling hand in hers, lightly stroking her palm over my forearm in soothing strokes. I’m a mess. Truthfully, I don’t know how I’d have handled this night without her by my side, always aware of exactly what I need. She probably has a better idea of what’s got me so riled up than I do.

  Could I actually be jealous over the words exchanged between him and Anika? He assured me they were no more than friends, and I completely believe him. So, why did those three words feel like a dagger stabbing repeatedly into my chest?

  At the same time, I’m touched by the way he thought to acknowledge me at all and reeling over the heartfelt proclamations he made.

  To top it all off, I’m confused, because it could have been a ploy to further our cause, but it didn’t feel like a performance. It felt real. It felt h
onest. It felt good.

  The lights dim, and Jim Walters, the host, is lit by a spotlight. “Up next we have The Rhett Taylor Band performing their first single from their upcoming album, Think Hard.”

  Every hair on my body stands on end as the lights move, illuminating the stage, and the man occupying my every thought is there, front and center, and looking like a snack.

  His Prada suit has been replaced by tight jeans and a fitted dark gray tee. He’s wearing his signature boots and backward cap.

  I gasp when I see the guitar his momma gave him, slung over his shoulder. He grips the neck, looking up and pointing a finger to the sky, a silent tribute to his dead mother that steals my breath.

  Nick beats his drum sticks together once, twice, three times…

  All at once the room is filled with infectious energy. I can’t take my eyes off of Rhett as he alternates between strumming his guitar and gripping that mic in his fist. From way out here I can see the veins cording his neck while he belts out the lyrics with passion and impeccable skill.

  We’ve been together for a few months now, but this is the first time I’ve witnessed him performing live. Our busy schedules haven’t allowed for it before now. Every note is pitch perfect and stirring a fire in my blood.

  Is every woman in here flushed and slick with desire, or is it my intimate knowledge of what he’s capable of with that bulge in his pants that has me squirming where I sit?

  Every thrust of his hips has my core clenching with need. By the time the song ends and the lights darken, I’m panting and fighting the urge to chase him down backstage and finish what he’s unknowingly just started.

  “Hey, sugar. Come give your old man a hug.” My blood runs cold, and every muscle in my body stiffens.

  I haven’t seen my sperm donor since he showed up uninvited to my high school graduation, but that gruff voice of his is one I’d recognize anywhere. I was sure after the way I laid into him, followed by ignoring his calls until they eventually stopped altogether, he’d finally gotten the message. But here he is—the bane of my existence—approaching our group as we make for the limo that’ll take us to the after party.

  The first thing I notice, when I can finally bring myself to look at him, is his haggard appearance. He hasn’t aged well at all and somehow that feels like a victory. He may have used her up like yesterday’s trash, but despite the years of torment, my mother is still as beautiful as ever. Too beautiful for the likes of him. The knowledge that she’d take him back in a heartbeat snuffs out that short-lived moment of triumph. I will never understand what she sees in him.

  Have I fallen prey to the same fate? Surpassed the point of no return?

  No, I finally decide with a side glance at my date. There’s something here. I feel it growing stronger every day, and I’d definitely be sad to lose him...but it can’t be love. At least, not yet. This unexpected encounter puts that much into perspective. I’m sure I’d feel relief if I could feel anything over the disgust that’s descended upon me.

  His tattooed arms swing open wide. Much like his face, they’re covered in wrinkles, prematurely aged by years of drug use and neglect. The snide smile that curls his lips says he knows he has me right where he wants me. Always playing games. There’s no way I can deny him without embarrassing Rhett, and he’s ready to take full advantage.

  My fists clench, nails cutting into Rhett’s palm as I steel my emotions, swallow the vomit rising in my throat, and stretch the taut muscles in my cheeks into what I hope comes off as a passable smile. Every ounce of elation, the cloud I’ve been floating on since this fairy tale of a night started, is gone like some distant memory.

  Like it never happened at all.

  “Father,” I choke, leaning in and placing a limp arm around his back as he squeezes me to his chest.

  “Knew you’d come around eventually.” The scent of his smoke-filled breath has me battling the urge to gag. “I’ve missed you, sweet girl.”

  Pulse racing, my stomach sinks into a bottomless pit. I’m so close to losing it when Rhett’s hand curls around my waist, and he tugs me back to his side. “Hey now. Don’t be trying to steal my arm candy.”

  Jax Potter has the audacity to offer a genuine laugh, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

  What alternate reality is this man living in? Can he not see what his being here is doing to me? Of course not. That would mean he’d have to care, and my father cares for no one but himself.

  “You have my blessing,” the old bastard offers, eyes volleying between Rhett and me like a proud papa. As if I’d ever want or need his approval. I’m going to come unglued.

  “Smile and nod.” Raven’s hushed whisper pulls me from my murderous thoughts. “Think of the band—of Rhett.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The lingering respect toward the man to which he feels he owes his career is obvious and has me feeling unjustly betrayed by my boyfriend.

  Try as I might, I can’t utter a sound. Not without exploding. So, I stand stalk-still, betraying all that I stand for by remaining silent for a man. One I’m not quite sure deserves my loyalty at this point.

  “Uncle Jax.” Nicholas steps around us, pulling my father into a one-armed hug and saving me from causing a scene.

  “Get her out of here, if you know what’s good for you.” Raven hisses at Rhett as her fingers close tightly around mine in an offer of comfort.

  The walk to the limo is a blur. Completely checked out, I allow my date to guide me through the throngs of people, pausing and smiling for the cameras when instructed, like a good little fiancée.

  My mind won’t stop racing, replaying every word of our encounter and filling me with regret. I’m not this meek, pushover of a girl. I should storm right back in there and tell that man exactly what I think of him and just where he can shove his blessing.

  “I’m so sorry.” Rhett’s voice pierces through my whirling thoughts once the door shuts and we’re safely inside the car.

  “Don’t.” I snap, sliding across the leather bench seat with moisture building behind my eyes. I’ll be damned if I allow myself to shed one more fucking tear over that deadbeat. “Did you—” I shake my head, praying for an answer I know isn’t coming. “Did you know?”

  The panicked look in his eyes says it all. “Know what?”

  “That Jax would be here?”

  Rhett’s face screws up, a further admission of guilt, but I need to hear the words. “I want complete honesty.”

  His broad shoulders slump. Intense blue eyes—which usually shine so bright—dim, offering up an apology before the words cross his lips. “I didn’t think...” A hand covers his face trailing down to scrub over his freshly shaved chin, and I can hardly breathe from the punch to my gut. “I mean, he’s usually at these things. But, babe, I swear, I wasn’t trying to force you into seeing him. It just never crossed my mind that the two of you would end up in the same place.”

  He moves closer, his hand reaching for mine.

  I swat it away. “I said don’t. Dammit, don’t touch me.” The tears I’m barely holding at bay wouldn’t survive it.

  Rhett’s elbows move to rest on his knees. Head hung, he angles his stricken face toward mine. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

  Deep down I realize he didn’t plan for this to happen—that he doesn’t deserve my wrath—so I try to pull away to keep myself from directing it where it doesn’t belong. My self-control is hanging by the thinnest of threads. “I know.” With my knees tucked into my chest, I throw off my heels and curl into the window, so I no longer have to see the look of desperation on his face.

  “Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

  I shrug, making circles with my finger in the condensation on the glass. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Live a lie for the cameras...cuz I’m telling you right now, I’m not sure I could do that again.” I take a deep, somewhat calming breath. “You should—No.” My head spins back to face him befo
re continuing, so he fully grasps the gravity of what I’m about to say. “You need to get out now before I ruin your career.”

  “If the things I’ve done haven’t destroyed it yet, I think it’s pretty safe to say we’ll get through it.”

  My head whips back and forth. “You don’t understand. I’m so angry. That man fills me with blind rage. I just...” I shudder. “I want to break something...preferably his face.” My cheeks flush crimson, and my hands instinctively ball into tight fists. I hate the way he still gets to me. The way he reduces me to that little girl who wished and waited for her daddy to come home. Who watched her mother cry into her palms day after day and never knew why she was always so sad. Who eventually grew up to learn of all his indiscretions from kids at school and the National Enquirer or whatever other gossip magazine he was plastered on that day. The sense of betrayal. The shame. It lingers. It festers. And seeing him tonight’s brought it all back tenfold.

  And here’s this beautiful man with the patience of a saint, holding me with his intense stare, trying to decide what to do with the mess before him. “Come here.” His voice is warm and tender as he beckons me over with the crook of a finger.

  “I can’t.” My own is small and strained.

  Without a word, he rises from his seat, moving to crouch before me. He places a hand around each of my ankles and guides my feet to rest on the floor on either side of him. Then he takes my hands into his, pulling them away from my face, refusing to let me hide. “Let me have it.”

  The pounding of my heart grows louder. Struggling to free my wrists from his hold, my anger boils to the surface, and I can’t hold back any longer. “Have what?” I shout. “What more do you want from me?”

  “Everything.”

  My God, he’s so serious with his confession that I want with every fiber of my being to believe him. To throw caution to the wind and trust that I could actually be enough for this man.

  “But for now,” he continues, clearing his throat. “What I really want more than anything else is to take away the pain I’ve caused you.” Rhett guides my hands to his mussed sandy blond hair. “Let it all out, baby.” His teeth scrape over his lower lip and he nudges my chin with the tip of his nose, so our eyes meet. “Don’t hold back.” He balls my fingers to fist the strands and with a little hesitation at first, I pull. Barely registering the hiss that escapes his lips, I pull again as hard as I can. Once I start, I can’t seem to stop the assault. My angry fists pound against his hard chest, and for a moment I forget he’s here at all, unleashing every ounce of pent-up aggression until I’m spent. Until I’m panting and disoriented. Until I’m filled with shame.